Pop

Back in 1971 when I was 16 years old I really wanted a new McCoy twin fin, the hottest thing going at the time.   But being 16 and the oldest of 13 kids it would take me 6 months to save up the money with my part time job at Ken’s Liquor.  I was talking to my girlfriend’s (now my wife) grandfather about my dilemma; he was in his seventies at the time.  He was a good listener and really easy to talk to.   At the time I was a long haired hippy looking kid.   But Pop made no judgments about how I looked, he judged a person by their actions.   He had only known me for six months and offered to finance my purchase for a fixed monthly payment and a modest amount of interest (0%).   I accepted the terms and was the proud owner of a new 5’ 10” Twinnie. Pop lived to the ripe old age of 94 and I had the honor of twenty something years of his friendship.  He was sharp as a tack right to the end.  I really miss his stories about the depression, how he worked on the building of the Coliseum in LA for 6.5 cents an hour.  And when they announced a wage cut to 6 cents an hour he had to keep the job because there weren’t any other jobs to be had.   He used to hang his lunch sack on a tree branch, and every day his lunch would be gone.  But he kept leaving it there assuming that someone without a job was feeding themselves or their family with his food.   That’s the kind of guy he was.   I really miss him, I think I’ll cry myself to sleep now.